


The Smallest Things

by dragon_charmer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 00:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_charmer/pseuds/dragon_charmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Smallest Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sassy_cissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_cissa/gifts).



> Written for the harrydracompreg fest .  
> sassy_cissa's prompt:   
> Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.  
> Special Request(s): Not really....just a look into the life of Harry, Draco and their children or child. Established relationship please. And older Harry/Draco - not school age.

**Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart**

There are moments in my life that I will always remember. Some of them are huge moments of grandeur or importance. But most are the little things though that doesn't make them any less grand or important. 

Like what's happening now.

I've spent the day finishing my father-of-the-bride speech and, as a reward, my husband is currently rubbing my feet. We're on the overstuffed sofa in front of the fire and my legs are stretched along its length. Draco is at the other end also stretched out, but my feet are in his beautiful, sensual hands, which are doing the business.

Draco doesn't do foot rubs. Never in all the years I've known him has he ever offered to massage my feet and his excuse has always been his foot phobia. That never prevented _him_ getting _his_ feet rubbed by me though. So I'm going to enjoy this moment for as long as possible and sear it in my memory.

It's also giving me the opportunity to indulge in another of my little pleasures. 

Draco Watching. 

He's still shielded, still keeps his emotions to himself, and still doesn't like to let on what's happening deep inside. During one of our arguments - yes, there have been many but the making up afterwards is always worth it - I accused him of being a cold heartless snake. He looked at me with those hard grey eyes, turned on his heel and left. That night when he finally came to bed, he thought I was asleep. He crawled under the covers, spooned against my back and whispered in my hair that he was sorry. I was going to let him know I was awake and there was nothing to be sorry about. But if I had, he wouldn't have carried on to talk about what Voldemort had done to his mind back at Hogwarts; how he still saw the images put there of his dead parents and friends and what would happen to him if he didn't kill Dumbledore. Keeping control of his emotions is his form of therapy, his way of dealing with his past. 

A bit like me really. I've got my own ways of dealing with what happened with Voldemort and I don't tell anyone either.

I've never told him that I heard his confession and I treasure the moments when he lets down his guard. It's normally when he doesn't think people are watching him; his features soften and his eyes change from hard ice to melting snow and I know that he's at peace with himself.

He's like that now and I want to stay like this forever.

But it's not going to happen.

"Are you going to read me the speech?" He glances over at me and his lip is curled in the hint of a smile.

"Now?"

He shrugs. "You're going to have to read it out at the wedding. I'm sure you need the practice." He digs his thumb into the arch of my right foot and I flinch in pain.

"Okay. Okay. You win. I'll read it." I gather up the sheets of parchment and a quill from the side table; he's going to demand changes so I might as well be prepared. "Ready?"

Draco gives me his best smile. "Oh, I can't wait, Potter."

He still throws in the odd 'Potter' now and then and I'll call him 'Malfoy'. We use them as terms of endearment but other people just don't get it. They think we use them when we angry at each other.

I clear my throat and make a start. 

_"Thank you all for coming today to the wedding of our beautiful daughter Gwyn to- "_ The thumb digs into my foot again just as I knew it would. _"- Our beautiful daughter **Gwyneira** to Aidan. Draco had the privilege of giving Gwyn away, so I get to make the father-of-the-bride speech." _

I wait for what I know will be his reaction.

"Harry, you know I can't give Gwyn away."

"Why not?" Here it comes and the smile has gone, replaced by what I call his 'teacher' look. He's going to explain something about the Wizarding world that Stupid Potter doesn't understand.

"It's tradition that the non-birth parent gives a daughter away."

"Tradition? You know what I think about tradition." I wait for the snort of derision I know Draco's about to give and I'm not disappointed. "You carried her for nine months, Draco. You cared for her for twenty years. You've been your little girl's rock. Don't you want to give her away?"

He lets go of my foot and gently sighs. "I've explained this to you already, Harry. As the birth parent I can't give Gwyn away. It would be like..." he waves a hand in the air. "Hermione giving away her daughter rather then Weasley."

I've spoken to Gwyn about this already and know it's what she wants; otherwise I wouldn't waste my time arguing Wizarding tradition with an expert. "I'm pretty sure that Rose will refuse to let anyone give her away. She'll walk down the aisle on her own and announce to everyone _No one's giving me away - I'm a free witch!'_ " He tries hard to hide a smile but we both know what Rose is like. She's never bothered with tradition either. "Draco, this isn't about tradition, it's about what we want."

"Don't you want to give her away?" He throws back the one thing that will make him right and me wrong.

"Of course I'd love to, but that isn't the point." I've got hold of his foot now, cradling his ankle in my lap. "And we've broken enough traditions in the past so why not one more. Gwyn wants it to be you. I want it to be you. Even your own mother isn't averse to the idea."

"You've spoken to my mother about this?"

"I talk to your mother about a lot of things. Tell me, Draco, if it wasn't for the tradition thing, would you want to do it?"

"Of course." There was no hesitation in the whispered reply.

"Then why not?" I wait for more dissent but there isn't any. Instead there is that Slytherin pride in the way he looks at me.

"Gwyn wants me to give her way?"

"She'd love you to."

"And you don't mind?"

"Would I be suggesting it if I minded?"

"Then thank you. Ever since Aidan asked permission I've wanted nothing more than to walk down the aisle with Gwyneira."

I rub his leg. "Well, that was easier than I thought. I expected you to fight harder for tradition."

He smiles at me in a way that still makes my heart skip a beat. "Sometimes I know when I'm beaten." 

I scramble down the sofa and kiss that smile. It's a bit difficult to actually scramble because I'm twenty-eight weeks pregnant myself and the bump is playing hell with my centre of gravity. If Draco had still refused I was going to play my trump card - _Do you really want me to walk down the aisle with my belly probably attracting more attention than the bride?_ My medi-witch has already warned me that once a wizard passes thirty weeks, the baby could come at any time, especially as this is my first pregnancy at the rather stately age of fourty-three. Not old for a wizard to have a baby but, as one healer pointed out, my mother was Muggleborn and that can lead to complications. 

Draco kisses me back and it's soft and gentle and hard and sexy all at the same time. I can feel the sheets of parchment crumple between us and for a moment I wonder where the quill is, but soon I couldn't care less about the quill or the parchment. There's just Draco and the kiss and the way they both make me feel.

We finally pull apart, petting and touching as we settle back down again. This time we're both at the same end of the sofa and I'm resting back against Draco's chest. His hands are resting on my bump, the warmth of his fingers through my shirt comforting. I've only felt the baby a couple of times - the sensation a bit like there was a butterfly inside beating its wings - and I'm still not convinced that it wasn't indigestion or something like that. As we sit there, I like to think that the baby can feel it's daddy's warm hands protecting it.

The crumpled parchment has been squashed down between us and the back of the sofa and I finally dig out the four sheets. Of the quill, there is no sign. I smooth them out and hold them up to Draco. "Now you can read it yourself."

He kisses the top of my head and pulls at my shirt until it comes free from the waistband. "I want to hear you read it."

"Are you sure? You don't need to untuck my shirt to listen."

"Oh, I do. I want Baby to hear as well." He cups my now bare belly in his hands, rubbing it gently and talks directly to it. "Are you listening, Baby? Daddy Harry is going to tell you a story."

I think I look like a beached whale. Whereas Draco looked beautiful when he was carrying Gwyn.

Draco has never seen a beached whale but thinks they must look gorgeous if that's what I look like.

I put the pages in order and continue.

_"When I first came into the Wizarding world there were lots of things I didn't know about, and one of thing was that both wizards and witches could have babies. I just thought all those flowing robes were the fashion, not to hide things and I remained oblivious for many, many years. When Draco and I got together, he just assumed I knew and never broached the subject. We got married 23 years ago and I lived in blissful ignorance for the first couple of years assuming that my family would be my beloved Draco and that I would be 'Uncle Harry' to the children of my friends._

_"So you can imagine my surprise when my husband sat me down one evening two weeks before Christmas and told me he was pregnant. I think I was in shock at least until the New Year. It was a difficult time because we didn't communicate that well. Draco thought I was upset about the baby and didn't want it while in reality I was just in denial about the whole thing. Men don't have babies ... full stop."_

"I thought you were going to leave."

I glance back at Draco, surprised by the comment. "Did you? You've never said."

Draco nods and his hands tighten around me just a little. "Every day I came home, I expected to see the wardrobes empty. And I didn't want to say anything in case it gave you ideas."

Grabbing at the hands, I squeeze them back. "Merlin, Draco, I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago."

"I know, but that doesn't matter. I would never have left you. It was just all so ... strange. You were pregnant and you were a man and it was the one thing I wanted but thought would never happen. I was going to be a dad."

We both fall silent for ages and I wonder if there are tears in Draco's eyes like there are in mine. I think about throwing the parchment away, but instead, despite the crack in my voice, I carry on.

_"Thankfully I have a very clever friend called Hermione and my equally clever mother-in-law who both took me to one side and explained about the birds and the bees._

_Draco, as you all can image, was not the easiest expectant parent in the world..."_

"And you are?"

I ignore him. 

_"... And used to demand things like peeled grapes and ice cream from Flora Fortescue's; normally in the middle of the night. Fortunately she understood the cravings."_

_"Gwyneira Lily Maia Malfoy arrived on May Day and believe it or not, it snowed! Not much, but I remember leaving St Mungo's in the evening and being surrounded by swirling snowflakes. When we came to name our beautiful girl it was her grandmother, Narcissa, who suggested 'Gwyneira'. It's from Draco's and my Welsh roots meaning 'white snow'. Lily is after my mother and Maia for the star in Taurus, Gwyn's zodiac sign._

_"Oh, Gwyn, how could something so small cause so much mayhem? You took over our home, our lives and our hearts. You could twist us both around your little finger with a smile and, even worse, a pout and a tear. You became expert at playing us off each other. If Draco said 'No' to something then you'd come to me and tell me 'Papa said it was okay'. By the time I found out it wasn't you'd already got what you wanted. And you did it the other way round as well._

_"You're most definitely a Malfoy with all your blonde hair and astute ways, but there's Potter blood as well, which is why I think you were Sorted into Ravenclaw when you got to Hogwarts because you didn't want your parents arguing about it."_

I can feel Draco laughing behind me. "What?"

"I asked her why she didn't want to be in Slytherin."

"And?"

"She didn't want to spend seven years living underground."

"So why not Gryffindor?"

"I asked that as well - she didn't want to spend seven years surrounded by red and yellow."

I playfully punch his leg. "I'm going to ask her if that's true."

"And she will say yes."

That makes me smile - of course she'll say yes. Anything to get round her dear papa. I'm really sure that deep down my Gwyn is a Slytherin. I toss the second piece of parchment to join the first already on the floor.

_"Letting our girl go to Hogwarts was probably the hardest thing we've ever done. Don't get me wrong, we wanted her to go but suddenly our home was Gwyn-less. No little girl running around leaving her toys all over the place for parents to trip over. No wands being stolen to practice her spells with. No good night kisses or stories to read. It was almost as much a shock as finding out Draco was pregnant in the first place. She promised to write as long as we wrote back and there are boxes of letters from her in a cupboard in her old room. I'm not going to embarrass her by reading any of the soppy ones, but that first evening she sent two letters. One was addressed to Draco and it just says_ Tell daddy I'm not in Gryffindor. _The one to me says_ Tell papa I'm not in Slytherin. _It was three days before we found out what house she was in._

_"Gwyn's years at Hogwarts were good. She played Quidditch for Ravenclaw, became a Prefect and eventually Head Girl. But she also got into trouble and served her share of detentions. She got eleven NEWTs, matching her godmother Hermione and went to work for the Wizengamot, which is where she met poor Aidan."_

"Poor Aidan?"

"You made his life hell, remember?"

I can feel Draco shrug. "Not really. I needed to make sure he was right for Gwyneira. We couldn't have just anyone courting her."

"Remember what Snape used to be like with me? Well, that's what you were like with Aidan. You wanted to use Veritaserum on him."

"I explained why -"

"And you had him under surveillance by an Auror squad."

"It was a training exercise -"

"And the recording spells you set up whenever he visited here?"

"You listened as well."

And I had - for a moment - until I realised that we were spying on our daughter. Yes, Poor Aidan. It's a surprise they ever got to the point of marriage.

_"Poor Aidan. Most suitors have to deal with a mother and a father, but Aidan had to deal with **two** fathers, both of whom assumed he just wanted his wicked way with their little girl. But it was soon clear that they were in love and who were we to tear them apart?_

_"Which is why we are all here today to wish them joy together. And to put Aidan on notice that he better look after Gwyn or he'll have the pair of us to deal with._

_"Gwyn, when you were a baby, I gave your papa a set of Winnie-the-Pooh books to read to you. In one of them Pooh says_ Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart. _And you took up so much room in ours. Neither of us would ever have it any different."_

I drop the final sheet of parchment and wait for Draco to say something, but he is silent. I turn a little in his arms. "Well?"

He's staring into space and I wonder if he's imagining reading to that little baby and how she'd changed and grown with the stories. Or perhaps, like me, he's thinking about reading to our unborn baby when he or she takes over our lives.

"Do you think we can cope with another baby?" My question is stupid really. Of course we'll cope because we have each other and our family and friends to help us, but it's scary to be almost parents again. We'd tried so many times over the years and both of us had lost babies early on. So it had been a shock when I'd found out I was pregnant again and Draco wrapped me in cotton wool until I'd got through the first twelve weeks when most male pregnancies end. There's still a danger but I take it easy and spend too much time with my feet up.

Draco holds me close. "Of course we will. We can do anything we want, Harry."

I turn in Draco's arms, and very ungainly, lay next to him, hugging him tightly as I kiss him.

Draco gasps against my mouth and I pull back. "What?" His face is a picture, like a child seeing Father Christmas for the first time. 

Or snow in May. 

Saying nothing, he turns me onto my back and scuttles down the sofa a little until his face is level with my belly.

"I felt the baby." Draco presses a hand to my stomach. "I felt it."

He's right - the baby had kicked. Its first proper kick reminding us both that 'I'm here'.

Draco rests his cheek against my belly and I push my hand into his hair.

Yes, indeed it is the smallest things, the littlest moments, and the tiny memories that fill the heart. 

\--fin


End file.
